« ՆախորդըՇարունակել »
The promis'd seat of empire shall again
The squire, whose good grace was to open the Cover the mountain, and command the plain ;
Ibegin: And, from thy race distinguish'd, one shall spring, Seem'd not in great haste that the show should Greater in act than victor, more than king
Now fitted the halter, now travers'd the cart, In dignity and power, sent down from heaven, And often took leave, but was loth to depart. To succour Earth. To him, To him, 'tis given, Derry down, &c. Passion, and care, and anguish, to destroy. Through him, soft peace, and plenitude of joy, “ What frightens you thus, my good son ?” says Perpetual o'er the world redeem'd shall flow;
the priest : No more may man inquir nor angel know. “ You murder'd, are sorry, and have been confest.”
“Now, Solomon! remembering who thou art, “ O father! my sorrow will scarce save my bacon ;
“ Pough! pr’ythee ne'er trouble thy head with Diffus'd thy virtues; first of men ! be best.
such fancies : Thy sum of duty let two words contain;
Rely on the aid you shall have from Saint Francis : (O may they graven in thy heart remain !) If the money you promis'd be brought to the chest, Be humble, and be just." The angel said : You have only to die : let the church do the rest. With upward speed his agile wings he spread ;
Derry down, &c.
“ And what will folks say, if they see you afraid? Or to object; at length (my mournful look It reflects upon me, as I knew not my trade : Heaven-ward erect) determin'd, thus I spoke : Courage, friend; for to-day is your period of sorrow; “ Supreme, all-wise, eternal Potentate!,
And things will go better, believe me, to-morrow. Sole Author, sole Disposer of our fate!
Derry down, &c.
“ To-morrow!” our hero replied, in a fright: Original of beings! Power divine !
“ He that's hang'd before noon, ought to think of Since that I live, and that I think, is thine!
(truss'd up, Benign Creator ! let thy plastic hand
“ Tell your beads,” quoth the priest, “and be fairly Dispose its own effect ; let thy command
For you surely to-night shall in Paradise sup.” Restore, Great Father! thy instructed son ;
Derry down, &c. And in my act may thy great will be done!"
“ Alas !" quoth the squire, “howe'er sumptu
ous the treat,
I should therefore esteem it great favour and grace, THE THIEF AND THE CORDELIER,
Would you be so kind as to go in my place."
Derry down, &c.
To the Tune of King John and the Abbot of Canterbury.
“ That I would," quoth the father, “and thank
you to boot; Who has e'er been at Paris, must needs know the But our actions, you know, with our duty must suit. Grève,
The feast I propos'd to you, I cannot taste; The fatal retreat of th' unfortunate brave;
For this night, by our order, is mark'd for a fast." Where Honour and Justice most oddly contribute Derry down, &c. To ease heroes' pains by a halter and gibbet. Derry down, down, hey derry down.
Then, turning about to the hangman, he said,
“ Dispatch me, I pr’ythee, this troublesome blade; There Death breaks the shackles which Force had For thy cord and my cord both equally tie, put on,
[begun; And we live by the gold for which other men die.” And the hangman completes what the judge but Derry down, &c. There the squire of the pad, and the knight of the post,
(no more crost. Pind their pains no more balk’d, and their hopes
Derry down, &c.
Great claims are there made, and great secrets are known;
(own. And the king, and the law, and the thief, has his But my hearers cry out, “ What a deuce dost thou
ail ? Cut off thy reflections, and give us thy tale."
Derry down, &c.
'Twas there then, in civil respect to harsh laws,
Derry down, &c.
Be gentle, and in pity choose
That, thrown again upon the coast
The pride of every grove I chose,
The violet sweet and lily fair,
To deck my charming Chloe's hair.
Upon her brow the various wreath ; The flowers less blooming than her face,
The scent less fragrant than her breath. The flowers she wore along the day:
And every nymph and shepherd said, That in her hair they look'd more gay
Than glowing in their native bed. Undrest at evening, when she found
Their odours lost, their colours past; She chang'd her look, and on the ground
Her garland and her eye she cast. That eye dropt sense distinct and clear,
As any Muse's tongue could speak, When from its lid a pearly tear
Ran trickling down her beauteous cheek.
The reason of the thing is clear,
Since this has been authentic truth,
“ Your care does further yet extend:
Youthful and healthy, flesh and blood,
Allow this logic to be good ?"
“ Sır, will your questions never end ? I trust to neither spy nor friend. In short, I keep her from the sight Of every human face." “ She'll write." “ From pen and paper she's debarr'd.” “ Has she a bodkin and a card ? She'll prick her mind.". -“ She will, you say: But how shall she that mind convey ? I keep her in one room : I lock it: The key, (look here,) is in this pocket." “ The key-hole, is that left ?' _ “ Most cer
tain." “She'll thrust her letter through, sir Martin."
“ Dear, angry friend, what must be done? “ Is there no way?”—“ There is but one. Send her abroad : and let her
Dissembling what I knew too well,
“ My love, my life," said I, “ explain This change of humour : pr'ythee tell:
That falling tear - what does it mean ?” She sigh'd; she smild; and, to the flowers
Pointing, the lovely moralist said : “ See, friend, in some few fleeting hours,
See yonder, what a change is made !
“ Ah, me! the blooming pride of May,
And that of Beauty, are but one : At morn both flourish bright and gay ;
Both fade at evening, pale, and gone.
“ At dawn poor Stella danc'd and sung;
The amorous youth around her bow'd : At night her fatal knell was rung;
I saw, and kiss'd her in her shroud. • Such as she is, who died to-day ;
Such I, alas ! may be to-morrow : Go, Damon, bid thy Muse display
The justice of thy Chloe's sorrow.”
AN ENGLISH PADLOCK. Miss Danaë, when fair and young, (As Horace has divinely sung, Could not be kept from Jove's embrace By doors of steel, and walls of brass.
Receive her with extended arms,
“ I'll soon with Jenny's pride quit score, Seem more delighted with her charms;
Make all her lovers fall : Wait on her to the Park and play;
They'll grieve I was not loos'd before ;
She, I was loos'd at all."
Fondness prevailid, mamma gave way;
Kitty, at heart's desire, And clap your padlock - on her mind.”
Obtain'd the chariot for a day,
And set the world on fire.
My lyre I tune, my voice I raise,
The lightning flies, the thunder roars, But with my numbers mix my sighs;
And big waves lash the frighten'd shores. And, whilst I sing Euphelia's praise,
Struck with the horrour of the sight, I fix my soul on Chloe's eyes.
She turns her head, and wings her fight :
And, trembling, vows she'll ne'er again Fair Chloe blush'd : Euphelia frown'd;
Approach the shore, or view the main. I sung, and gaz'd ; I play'd, and trembled : “ Once more, at least, look back," said I, And Venus to the Loves around
Thyself in that large glass descry:
When thou art in good-humour drest;
'Tis then that with delight I rove THE LADY'S LOOKING-GLASS.
Upon the boundless depth of Love:
Nor think on all I left on shore.
“ But when vain doubt and groundless fear Walk'd o'er the sand-hills to the sea :
Do that dear foolish bosom tear; The setting Sun adorn'd the coast,
When the big lip and watery eye His beams entire, his fierceness lost :
Tell me the rising storm is nigh ; And, on the surface of the deep,
'Tis then, thou art yon' angry main, The winds lay only not asleep :
Deform'd by winds, and dash'd by rain; The nymph did like the scene appear,
And the poor sailor, that must try Serenely pleasant, calmly fair:
Its fury, labours less than I. Soft fell her words, as flew the air.
“ Shipwreck’d, in vain to land I make, With secret joy I heard her say,
While Love and Fate still drive me back: That she would never miss one day
Forc'd to doat on thee thy own way, A walk so fine, a sight so gay.
I chide thee first, and then obey. But, oh the change the winds grow high; Wretched when from thee, vex'd when nigh, Impending tempests charge the sky;
I with thee, or without thee, die.”
IN IMITATION OF A GREEK IDYLLIUM.
Jous Gay, a well-known poet, was born at or near some South-sea stock presented to him by secretary Barnstaple, in Devonshire, in 1688. After an edu- Craggs, raised his hopes of fortune at one time to a cation at the free-school of Barnstaple, he was sent considerable height; but the loss of the whole of to London, where he was put apprentice to a silk- this stock affected him so deeply as to throw him mercer. A few years of negligent attendance on into a dangerous degree of languor, for his recovery the duties of such a station procured him a separa- from which he made trial of the air of Hampstead. tion by agreement from his master; and he not long He then wrote a tragedy called “ The Captives," afterwards addicted himself to poetical composition, of which was acted with applause; and in 1726, he which the first-fruits were his “Rural Sports,” pub-composed the work by which he is best known, his lished in 1711, and dedicated to Pope, then first rising“ Fables," written professedly for the young Duke to fame. In the following year, Gay, who possessed of Cumberland, and dedicated to him. In the manmuch sweetness of disposition, but was indolent and ner of narration there is considerable ease, together improvident, accepted an offer from the Duchess of with much lively and natural painting, but they will Monmouth to reside with her as her secretary. He hardly stand in competition with the French fables had leisure enough in this employment to produce of La Fontaine. Gay naturally expected a handin the same year his poem of " Trivia, or the Art of some reward for his trouble; but upon the accession Walking the Streets of London,” which proved one of George II. nothing better was offered him than of the most entertaining of its class. It was much the post of gentleman-usher to the young Princess admired; and displayed in a striking manner that Louisa, which he regarded rather as an indignity talent for the description of external objects which than a favour, and accordingly declined. peculiarly characterised the author.
The time, however, arrived when he had little In 1714, he made his appearance from the press occasion for the arts of a courtier to acquire a degree on a singular occasion. Pope and Ambrose Philips of public applause greater than he had hitherto exhad a dispute about the respective merits of their perienced. In 1727, his famous “ Beggar's Opera” pastorals ; upon which, Gay, in order to serve the was acted at Lincolns-inn-fields, after having been cause of his friend, undertook to compose a set of refused at Drury-lane. To the plan of burlesquing pastorals, in which the manners of the country should the Italian operas by songs adapted to the most be exhibited in their natural coarseness, with a view familiar tunes, he added much political satire deof proving, by a sort of caricature, the absurdity of rived from his formet disappointments; and the rePhilips's system.
The offer was accepted; and sult was a composition unique in its kind, of which Gay, who entitled his work “ The Shepherd's the success could not with any certainty be foreseen. Week,” went through the usual topics of a set of “ It will either (said Congreve) take greatly, or be pastorals in a parody, which is often extremely damned confoundedly.” Its fate was for some time humorous. But the effect was in one respect dif- in suspense ; at length it struck the nerve of public ferent from his intended purpose; for his pictures taste, and received unbounded applause. It ran of rural life were so extremely natural and amusing, through sixty-three successive representations in the and intermixed with circumstances so beautiful and metropolis
, and was performed a proportional numtouching, that his pastorals proved the most popular ber of times at all the provincial theatres. Its songs works of the kind in the language. This perform- were all learned by heart, and its actors were raised ance was dedicated to Lord Bolingbroke; and at to the summit of theatric fame. This success, inthis period Gay seems to have obtained a large share deed, seems to indicate a coarseness in the national of the favour of the Tory party then in power. He taste which could be delighted with the repetition of was afterwards nominated secretary to the Earl of popular ballad-tunes, as well as a fondness for the Clarendon, in his embassy to the court of Hanover ; delineation of scenes of vice and vulgarity. Gay but the death of Queen Anne recalled him from his himself was charged with the mischiefs he had thus, situation, and he was advised by his friends not to perhaps unintentionally, occasioned; and if the neglect the opportunity afforded him to ingratiate Beggar's Opera delighted the stage, it encountered himself with the new family. He accordingly wrote more serious censure in graver places than has been a poetical epistle upon the arrival of the Princess of bestowed on almost any other dramatic piece. By Wales, which compliment procured him the honour making a highwayman the hero, he has incurred the of the attendance of the prince and princess at the odium of rendering the character of a freebooter an exhibition of a new dramatic piece.
object of popular ambition; and, by furnishing his Gay had now many friends, as well among per- personages with a plea for their dishonesty diawn sons of rank, as among his brother-poets ; but little from the universal depravity of mankind, he has was yet done to raise him to a state of independence. I been accused of sapping the foundations of all A subscription to a collection of his poems pub- social morality. The author wrote a second part of lished in 1720. cleared him a thousand pounds; and this work, enutled “ Polly, but the Lord Cham